justreallybored

[justreallybored]

🎨 by Kanescribbles

[justreallybored]

i like my women strange and off putting

[justreallybored]

A very large Illyrian - Elriel 🦇🌸

Word count : 1k2

✍🏻Summary : Elain and Azriel are not as discrete as they thought they were. Nesta is Nesta - she just knows. ( can you tell I suck at summary ?)

🌸 Anyway - Likes, reblog, and feedback are much much appreciated !

Elain lay tangled in the sheets, her breath uneven as Azriel finally drew back - though not far, close enough that his taste still clung to her lips. His hand hovered near her hip, fingers drawing slow, absent circles on her skin. His shadows moved lazily around her, tracing the paths their master took shortly before.

“We should get dressed,” she whispered, shifting to sit up. Her hair was tousled, cheeks flushed, and the world beyond her room - family dinner, polite conversation, masks and pretending - felt unbearably sharp.

He sighed, a deep exhale fully encompassing his wish to stay there for the night, forever. “Right.” His voice felt raw in the quiet, as if every careful word they’d shared between them had to vanish completely before the evening began.

“I smell like you,” she said, her fingers brushing the edge of the sheet, as if grounding herself in something real. Azriel looked at her, his gaze soft but unreadable. “It’s my second favorite smell in the world.” Elain paused at that “What’s the first? The smell of my chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven?” she teased. “That’s a strong third, but no. Your scent on me is actually my favorite.” Her breath caught, though she didn’t let it show. “Someone’s getting romantic.”

A few seconds passed in silence between them.

Then he pressed his lips to her forehead. “We can’t stay like this.” He let the words hang between them - a quiet admission he hated to make. He hated even more what came next. He wasn’t lying when he said his favorite scent these days was the way their smells mingled - how hers lingered to his skin, making his head spin and his heart race.

Elain stood, her robe slipping off one shoulder. He saw the quiet ache in her eyes. The same impossible pull.

“No. We can’t.” She moved toward the small door leading to the bathing room and paused just before stepping through. “I’ll go first.”

Water hissed softly over the marble as Elain lowered herself into the pale, creamy basin. Jasmine and lavender oils floated on the surface, meant to mask the fading scents of cedar and leather still lingering on her skin. The House of Wind had cleverly designed the bath so water would rain gently from above, cascading over her hair and shoulders and easing the tension in her muscles. The soothing flow calming her, a quiet anchor before the night’s coming chaos.

Outside the door, Azriel stood, muscles coiled, shadows flickering at his sides like restless whispers. He could still catch her scent, soft and faint, but it was now overpowered by the lavender soap she was likely using. In her bathroom, her soap sat by the bath, while his was tucked away in the cabinet. In his own bathroom, it was the opposite : his soap next to the bath, and hers hidden in the cabinet. He’d have to switch to the soap tucked away in her cabinet - the same one he kept in his own bathroom.

Elain stepped out of the bath, a plush towel wrapped around her, skin still pink from the heat. She moved quietly across the marble floor, steam curling around her ankles as she reached for the door. When it opened, Azriel looked up - and went still.

She stood framed in the soft light, steam drifting around her like mist. Her damp curls clung to her shoulders and back, water trailing down her arms and legs in slow, glistening paths. The towel hugged her form, and her flushed skin glowed with warmth. She tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear, eyes meeting his. “Your turn,” she said, voice low, threaded with quiet affection.

Azriel was already perched at the edge of her bed, head tilted up to look at her, his expression unreadable - except for the faint curve at the corner of his lips. The sun had nearly set, which meant it was almost time to head to the River House for dinner. Elain would go first, as always, alongside Cassian and Nesta. Azriel would come later, slipping in with some excuse about a late report from one of his spies. A rehearsed scene they’d used more than once.

He stood, pressing a kiss to her temple before disappearing into the attached bathroom, his leathers abandoned in a heap on the chaise.

As he stepped into the bath after her, body tense beneath the spray, he let the water cascade over him in silence, scrubbing away the residue of stolen touches, the intimacy of the afternoon. He closed his eyes, tasting her name on his lips, and allowed himself one slow inhale, filling his lungs.

Elain moved to her vanity, towel still wrapped around her chest, fingers rifling through her jewelry for something simple that wouldn’t draw attention. The room held a faint trace of him, despite the open window and the lavender oils from her bath. She picked up a brush, running it slowly through her damp hair, before starting to slip into the deep blue dress she’d laid out earlier.

And that was exactly when her bedroom door flew open.

“Elain!” Nesta’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade. “What are you planning to - oh.”

Elain, halfway into her dress, yelped, stumbling back and clutching the bodice to her chest. “Nesta! What are you doing?!”

Her sister leaned casually against the doorframe, eyes quickly scanning the room, taking in the mess. Her brows lifted.

“I came to ask what you’re wearing to dinner,” she said with mock innocence. “But now I see the dress isn’t the most urgent decision you’ve made today.”

Elain opened her mouth to respond - then the sound hit them.

Water. Still running.

Nesta’s gaze sharpened.

“Elain,” she said flatly, “is someone in your bath?”

Elain blinked, starting to laugh nervously. “I - uh - I think I forgot to turn the faucet off.”

Nesta slowly turned her head, eyes taking in the evidence: tossed pillows, a lacy undergarment flung across the floor, and most damning of all : the pile of distinctly Illyrian leathers on her chaise, blue siphons catching the candlelight, alongside a legendary blade.

The splashing stopped. Silence fell like a curtain.

“Is that…” Nesta tilted her head, “a dagger?”

Elain stared at Truth-teller as if seeing it for the first time. “It might… be.”

“Elain,” Nesta said slowly, “is there a very large Illyrian in your bathroom right now?”

She buried her face in her hands. “Please go away.”

Nesta grinned. “Absolutely not.”

And just then - because the Cauldron clearly had a cruel sense of humor - the bathroom door slowly opened. Azriel stepped out, one towel slung low around his hips.

He froze.
Nesta froze.
Elain may have whispered a silent prayer to die.

“Oh,” Nesta said calmly. “Hello, Az.”

Azriel glanced down at the towel, then at Elain, then back to Nesta. “I thought she was alone,” he said evenly. Internally, he was scolding himself. How in hell did the spymaster of the Night Court not notice a new person in her room? He was probably still dazzled by his time with Elain, as usual.

“She was,” Nesta replied. “Then I came to ask about her dress. Which… seems futile now.”

And as if the situation wasn’t catastrophic enough already, the booming voice of Cassian called up from below. “Nesta! Elain! Are you two ready or what?”

Still looking at Azriel, Nesta raised her voice just enough to carry. “Just a minute! Elain’s… freshening up.”

She turned on her heel, brushing past Elain with a smirk and a pointed look that said: Ten minutes. I’m waiting downstairs. Figure it out.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Elain buried her face in Azriel’s bare chest and groaned. Dinner promised to be interesting.

[justreallybored]

Azriel and Elain cloud gazing when they get a moment to be away from everyones watchful gaze.

[justreallybored]

Tarot + Chocolate | Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Wielder

Summary: Azriel and Elain prepare for their travels.

CW: Unfair/brutal punishment of a child; mentions of mental illness/effects of PTSD

Preview:

They were going to Scotland in two days, and Azriel was losing his mind. He still had not been able to access his magic, and he felt like he was going to look like an idiot when he showed up at a master’s doorstep with nothing to offer. He was used to being good at things—he was good at school, he was good at most athletic endeavors, he was good in bed, and he was really good at beating his brothers every time they played cards or other stupid games. He wasn’t used to failing so profoundly.

For this reason he had asked Elain to do another practice session with him two days before they left for their red-eye trip. It was also an excuse to hash out some travel details. It was also an excuse to spend time with her alone once more. 

She had come to him this time, and they were currently sitting at his dining room table, eating Chinese takeout while they talked over their plans. 

“So we’ll meet at the airport at 9 PM?” Elain was asking him, twirling some lo mein noodles around her fork. He fucking loved that she could put away food around him without being self-conscious. Or if she was, she didn’t show it. He loved watching her eat. And he hated society for making women think they couldn't eat around men.

He nodded as he chewed and swallowed a bite of egg roll, chasing it with a sip of beer. “Cassian’s gonna drop me off. You have a way to get there?”

She nodded as well. “Yeah, Nesta is taking me.” Elain, surprisingly, was also drinking a beer. He had offered her one thinking she would refuse, but she had accepted with a shrug. 

“That will be awkward if they pull up at the same time,” he answered. 

She laughed against the mouth of her beer bottle. “I’ll be ten minutes late,” she told him, throwing him a wink. His stomach dipped. She had such easy command over him—the slightest gesture, the tiniest sound, and he was like putty in her fingers. 

Continue on Ao3

[justreallybored]

Peace & Quiet | @elriel-month

Azriel doesn’t need to work himself to the edge of exhaustion just to find sleep tonight.

Not when Elain is in his arms.

No forced isolation.

Just quiet breathing, soft warmth, and the peace he’s always craved.

Under the stars, he finally rests because she is his.

Thank you to the lovely @wwispart for capturing this moment with such tenderness.

⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣

⁣⁣⁣⤞ Art by @wwispart

⁣⁣⁣⤞ Commissioned by me

⁣⁣⁣⤞ Please do not repost without permission

⁣⁣⁣⤞ Instagram

⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣

[justreallybored]

"And there she was. The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn."

[justreallybored]

I am 100% obsessed with the idea of Elain being a spy, so I decided to compile all the evidence that alludes to her becoming one in the future and the traits she has that would be useful because why not?

Up first is Elain's charm.

When we see her again in ACOMAF, it's Elain who convinces all of the servants to leave the house so she and Nesta can meet with the bat boys. Rhys even comments that the servants left the house as if a plague had befallen it, which just goes to show how efficiently she got the job done. Feyre then says Elain can convince anyone do to anything with just a few smiles. This is obviously a useful quality for a spy, and when combined with Elain's kindness and beauty makes her less likely to be suspected of any wrongdoing. Her charm would also make people more willing to talk to her, which makes it easier for her to gather information.

We can also see that Elain is stealthy.

Both Feyre and Nesta comment on how silently Elain moves at various points in the series. Nesta even wonders if she's learning stealth from either Az or the twins. We also have to remember that the Fae have enhanced hearing, yet they still don't hear sound from her steps. I'm sure I don't need to tell you guys why this is an amazing quality for a spy.

Third is Elain's wisdom.

Elain has been referred to as wise by both Mor and Feyre. Wisdom means having knowledge and good judgement, which is essential when you're a spy. You have to know how to navigate whatever situation you find yourself in while preventing people from finding out what you're doing. Having good judgement helps you solve problems more efficiently, and wisdom also enhances your ability to influence others because people listen to you.

Elain is also good at keeping secrets.

Elain was the only one who knew Feyre was pregnant, and did not give any indication of it whatsoever. Feyre even says that she might have Az beat for secret-keeping, which is no small feat considering Az is a spymaster and shadowsinger.

There is also the fact that Elain seems to have good observation skills.

Cassian says that Nesta was wrong in her assessment of Elain, that Elain had seen "every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why." Additionally, in Az's POV, he says that Elain is well aware of why he stood by the doorway when Lucien was there and of why Az rarely came to family dinners anymore. I think this is super important because Az doesn't seem like the type to give himself or his motives away like that, but Elain could still tell. Elain being able to read Az like this is a big thing. This indicates that Elain is observant, and she is at least somewhat adept at reading people, analyzing their actions, and determining why they do what they do, which is definitely an important skill. I also think Elain being able to read and understand Nesta is important, since she's such a complex character.

Then there's Elain's connection to Az's shadows.

We all know about the iconic scene where Elain literally steps out of a shadow to stab Hybern, so I figured I didn't need to add that one. I don't think SJM would make an attempt to connect Elain with Az's shadows like this if it wasn't important. I think this is pretty self-explanatory as well, and if Elain does indeed have the ability to use Az's shadows, that alone gives her the potential to be a formidable spy.

This one is pretty obvious, but I can't not talk about Elain's powers. We know that Elain can see the future, but it's evident that Elain can also see the present when Feyre asks her to track down the Suriel in chapter 57 of ACOWAR. She's able to see exactly where the Suriel is just by focusing on the image of it that Feyre planted in her mind. And she figured out how to do this on her own, with no training. Like y'all, baby girl doesn't even need to be present or next to you to spy on you. That's huge.

Last but not least, Elain is patient. Az tells Cassian that waiting is a big part of syping. And you're probably wondering how I know Elain is patient, and the reason is that Elain is a gardener. Take it from me, gardening requires a large amount of patience, which was exactly why I wasn't cut out for it. The same way that people don't engage in evil deeds when it's convenient to you, flowers don't bloom when you want them to. Feyre talks about the beautiful garden Elain cultivated at her house, which undoubtedly took a lot of time. She even talks about how Elain would kneel in dirt weeding, which scandalized the servants. Some plants take years to grow, and each seed takes its own sweet time to sprout. Tending to a garden is absolutely an exercise in patience. It requires planting, watering, mulching, weeding, watching and waiting in order to get results.

I also think it's important to note the other parallels between her and Az besides her connection to his shadows. In chapter 16 of ACOMAF, Feyre calls Az "the knife in the dark." But who ended up actually becoming the knife in the dark? Elain, when she stabbed Hybern.

I also always think about this part.

It reads so similar to the moment Elain stabs Hybern. Elain snarls at Hybern "Don't you touch my sister" while Az snarls "Don't you touch her." I live for Az and Elain snarling at Hybern not to touch the people they love. Honestly, I'm probably reaching and this might not mean anything, but I figured I'd add it just because.

Damn this was long as hell, and if you've made it this far, you're amazing. Honestly, this is just me trying to manifest spy Elain, and if it doesn't happen, I will die. SJM better not rob us like that. Az and Elain would be the ultimate spy couple, and no one can convince me otherwise.

The credit for coming up with this amazing theory goes to @ladylochan

[justreallybored]

Some shower time fun 💦

Just a little something to get ya through the week 😉

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

You can find the full version on my X/Twitter and Bluesky.

X won’t let me directly link due to it being ✨spicy✨, so it’ll direct you to my profile where you can easily find it ☺️

X/Twitter

Bluesky post

Instagram post

My Linktree

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Art by (x/twitter) nsf_ko 🖤

Commissioned by me

Elain & Azriel from ACOTAR series by SJM

@elriel-month

NO REPOSTS

Likes & shares appreciated 🖤

[justreallybored]

“Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek.”

Beautiful art by: pixie.folk

[justreallybored]

Solstice Elriel 🥔🌸🦇

I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.

*******

But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.”

Az said nothing.

No, he just moved toward her.

Mor tensed beside me.

But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. “I—I’ll be right back,” she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.

*******

Azriel set the potatoes in the center of the table, Cassian diving right in. Or he tried to.

One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice.

Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate. Amren just smirked over the rim of her wineglass.

Cassian gawked at him. “Wait for what? Gravy?”

Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

*******

Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. “Please don’t wait on my account,” she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.

*******

🎨 Art by @aurithemoon

✨ Commissioned by me

💙��Please do not repost. Reblogs are welcome! 

[justreallybored]

I see the argument “ohhh but pour Lucien, who will he ends up with if Elriel happens”

Vassa.

He will end up with Vassa.

[justreallybored]

I remember being at a convention once, and there was a speaker whose topic was all about dealing with negative people, and especially, how to deal with your own reactions and how to control your own emotions in an unpleasant situation. The main point was that you cannot change others, but you can change and control your reaction to them and the situations.

But what stuck with me all these years was something that I came to believe wholeheartedly.

Happy people will not attack you.

They don't think anything bad.

They don't act badly.

They are not saying anything bad about you or anyone.

If someone attacks you, it's for one reason and one reason only--they are not happy with themselves.

It's got nothing to do with you, but just a way for them to project their own unhappiness and dissatisfaction with themselves and their situation onto another entity. Which is typically another person.

A happy, content person will never think to go and bully someone in person or online. A happy, content person will not be screaming at a salesperson, or throwing food back at a waiter, or keying someone's car.

The reason I am saying all this is that I have a feeling that attacks on Elriels, personal and group, will escalate as time progressed, until the actual final announcement.

So just remember--those who attack you online, those who spiral on Reddit, who rant on TikTok, who send you hateful messages or post violent comments are deeply unhappy, insecure people. It's not you. It's them.

Sometimes, as ridiculous as it is, this fandom feels absolutely out of control and full of hate. It should be simply book discussions. Instead, it's doxxing, and insults, threats and mockery. And 90% of the time it's Elriels who are attacked and driven off every platform. Happy, confident people, who are secure in their beliefs will not try to ban you or drive you away. Think about that every time you encounter nastiness.

We bring canon. They bring rage and insults.

That should tell you everything.

Just stay safe and unbothered out there.

Elriel is coming.

[justreallybored]

It's interesting that when Feyre mentions the darkness in the sky outside the house, we soon have Elain observing that darkness, and then Azriel nearly running over Feyre to wish Elain a Happy Solstice.

[justreallybored]

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

“𝙄 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩—𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧.”

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

✮♱✮ art by @luxury_banshee

✮♱✮ commissioned by me

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

A little late Elriel for @elrielmonth from the fabulous @luxury_banshee and I! Better late than never right? An Elriel from one of my best friends I’ve ever made on my commission journey, @luxury_banshee who is just as obsessed with this Elriel as I am! And most importantly, one that is Bombo approved! I can never truly thank @luxury_banshee for being so amazing and one of my closest friends—and always makes the most breathtaking art I’ve ever seen. I’m always your biggest fan, and can’t wait to watch you reach the stars!

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

✮♱✮ quote is from A Court of Mist & Fury

✮♱✮ characters are Elain Archeron & Azriel

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

✮♱✮ likes, saves, and shares are always appreciated!

✮♱✮ no reposts allowed.

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

[justreallybored]

In the margings - an Elriel fanfic 🌸🦇

It is my first fanfic ever, so it might not be perfect. I’ll take any feedback or suggestions for the next ones ( if there are next ones). I hope you enjoy ! ☽

Word count : 1 368

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

The fire was almost out, its last embers crackling quietly in the hearth. A soft glow flickered across the cozy seating room, touching the velvet cushions and thick rugs with warmth. Everything felt peaceful, quiet and safe.

Elain sat curled at the end of the long sofa beneath the wide window, where moonlight spilled in and lit her skin with a soft silver glow. The fire’s fading light brushed through her hair, catching on strands of gold as they fell over her shoulder in loose waves. Her legs were tucked to her chest, a book open between them - its spine worn, the corners bent from use.Visions Beyond Sight: A Study of Seers, Oracles, and Dreamers, read the title on the cover. Elain’s slender fingers rested lightly across the page, though they had stopped turning long ago. Her breathing had evened out, lashes brushing high cheekbones, her chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm. Slowly, her head fell on the side, on the back of the sofa. The book was still open to Chapter Five: “Interpreting Shadows-Signs and Symbols in Seer Visions.”. Scrawled lightly in the margins were small, looping notes in Elain’s tidy but tentative hand : What is the difference between an echo and a trace? Are these signs only visible to the seer? How does one know if a vision is literal or metaphorical? Dreams? (circled twice).

The page trembled faintly as the front door opened with a soft click, cold air from outside sweeping inside. Elain didn’t stir. Booted steps entered the hallway, silent and precise, muffled only by the runner beneath. Azriel stepped into the seating room, shadows curling close to his shoulders as if reluctant to leave him, even now. The scent of wind, rain, and blood clung to his leathers, though he had cleaned most of the grit from the mission off his hands during the walk home.

And then he saw her.

His steps halted completely, all the watchful alertness of battle giving way to a hush in his chest.

Elain.

Peaceful. Gentle. Unaware of the way the night had swallowed so many things beyond these walls.

She looked... soft, and so unlike the rest of the world Azriel had returned from that it caught him entirely off guard. That book still on her lap, tilted slightly, as if she had meant to read just a little longer and had succumbed to sleep instead. There was a furrow in her brow, even at rest, as though the questions she'd written still hovered behind her eyes. His shadow swarmed around him, urging him to get closer - a few bold wisps slipping toward her and nestling at her side. He approached her carefully, kneeling beside the couch so as not to wake her. Her scent - jasmine, honey, and something like fresh-baked bread - curled around him in delicate wisps, grounding him and forcing him to close his eyes for a second and inhale slowly, as if committing the smell to memory.

With quiet reverence, Azriel reached for the book. It shifted slightly as he lifted it from her lap, careful not to wake her. One of her fingers brushed against his knuckle in the process, and he froze. It had been weeks since their hands last touched. Gone were the faint brush of their hand in the hallways, or under the table at dinner. No, all this vanished after solstice. But she only sighed, a faint sound, and turned her face toward the cushion. Once the book was secure, Azriel glanced around and found one of the thick woven blankets tossed across the arm of a nearby chair. He lifted it and gently draped it over her, tucking the edge beneath her chin. The firelight gleamed in her hair. He didn’t allow himself to touch it. He sat on the armchair beside the couch,, the book resting on his legs. He hadn’t meant to read it, but curiosity took hold : Visions Beyond Sights he read. he opened the pages Elain had marked. Her notes struck him first. Soft, questioning script. She had read this carefully, slowly, but not with ease. Her underlines were sporadic, sometimes circling entire paragraphs. One margin read: Look deeper into this, and another: Do only some seers see this kind of thing?

Azriel studied each note in turn, mouth tightening faintly at the confusion beneath her questions. She was trying. Even now. Trying to understand this power she hadn’t asked for. And she was here, reading, learning on her own.

His heart tightened.

Azriel summoned his shadow to bring him the pen she used. He hesitated for only a breath before writing directly into the margins, next to her questions, his own script neat and angled in contrast to hers.

Echo: An emotional or magical impression left behind. Often felt more than seen.


Trace: A remnant of actual power, visual or tangible. Often linked to stronger visions.


Yes, signs are only visible to the one with the Sight, unless made manifest.


Literal vs. metaphorical : Look for repetition across dreams or visions. Metaphors often recur. Literal images tend to be sharper, more sensory.

Then, beneath her circled “Dreams?” he wrote:
Dreams are sometimes bridges. Vision-seers often receive glimpses through them. See “The Path of Dreams” by Lord Tromley, Chapter 3 specifically. He wouldn’t dare admit he read it all before, when they tried to figure out what happened to her after being Made. The hours spent in the library, trying to find explanations to her behaviours, to what plagued her.

He flipped through a few more pages, noticing more notes.

He continued through the chapter, answering as much as he could, until the clock on the mantel struck three and the fire had dwindled to nothing but coals. When he finally rose, he placed the book gently on the low table beside her. The blanket had shifted slightly, so he adjusted it again, brushing a stray curl from her cheek with the barest movement of his hand. His hand lingered a little longer than he should.

Then, silent as a passing shadow, he disappeared up the stairs.

——————

Morning sunlight warmed the edges of the seating room, golden ribbons catching on the hem of Elain’s nightgown as she stirred beneath the blanket.

Her fingers flexed, brushing against soft wool. She didn’t remember falling asleep with a blanket on her. She also couldn’t exactly pinpoint the lingering smell on it. Cedar, pine - and blood ? Slowly, she opened her eyes.

The fire was out, but daylight filtered in, gilding the river in sparkling threads. She sat up, the blanket falling to her lap, and paused.

The book laid on the table, opened on the page she read when she fell asleep. Only now, there was writing in the margins. But not her own. The handwriting was different. Neat, angular. Masculine. Elain blinked and brought the book closer, heart fluttering as she read the lines penned next to her questions. Her own words remained, but now met with clear, thoughtful responses. Answers.

Azriel.

She knew his hand. Had seen it in reports and court letters, in small notes left for Rhys or Cassian. But never for her.

Her eyes danced over the annotations, her lips parting slightly in wonder.

Echo: An emotional or magical impression…
Dreams are sometimes bridges…
 See “The Path of Dreams”…

He had helped her. Quietly. Thoroughly. He had not mocked or dismissed her questions, no matter how naive they might have seemed.

Elain pressed her fingers gently to the edge of the page, her touch reverent. A faint smile bloomed across her lips, slow and soft.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty indeed.

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

And voilà ! Any feedback is appreciated. 🥀

[justreallybored]

Tarot + Chocolate | Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Aftermath

Summary: Elain and Azriel deal with the aftermath of breaking the rules.

CW: mentions of patricide, forced/arranged marriage, extreme angst/self-hatred

princess x knight modboard made by @ater-love (sharing with permission ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥)

Preview:

Azriel knew that what he was allowing himself to experience with the princess made him a dishonorable man—an unworthy, dishonest, and selfish man. If he was punished for it, he would deserve it. Elain was a princess , above him in every sense of the word. And she was risking everything to be with him.

The King and Queen were not known for their cruelty, but they were not either known for their mercy. Azriel had served them for a decade now, and knew that they could be hard, cold, and unyielding in their demands and punishments. He had witnessed them treat their own daughters as such too many times. 

So maybe this was already the start of a fitting punishment, the knight thought. Being forced to stand here on guard, watching the love of his life, the princess of his realm, be courted and sold off to a duke that would never, and could never, deserve her. 

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